


we can always come back to this

by savingsiriusblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Eventual Romance, Horcrux Hunting, Implied Mpreg, Marauders & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Multi, Ongoing First War With Voldemort, Regulus Black is Harry Potter's Parent, Unexpected Parenthood, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), father/son bonding, married wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21496090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savingsiriusblack/pseuds/savingsiriusblack
Summary: In September of 1991, Auror James Potter is reassigned to his most tedious duty yet. After all, Hogwarts is the safest place on earth. The Chosen One does not need his protection.
Relationships: James Potter & Harry Potter, Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 76
Kudos: 408





	1. unless you have a kid you don't know about

**Author's Note:**

> Title, tags, and warnings are subject to change! (but not drastically). Current title is a song by Brian Tyree Henry.

“What if we just add a teeny bit?”

“No.”

“He won’t even taste it!”

“No.”

“Please, Moony! You can’t say ‘no’ to me. I’m injured!”

“And putting Blitz's in Slughorn’s pumpkin juice will make you heal faster?”

“No, but it would be really funny.”

James narrowly avoids being stabbed with a fork by grabbing hold of the irate werewolf’s wrist. They stare each other down until Remus, remembering that he’s an adult, drops the fork. James does not let go.

“C’mon Moony. Remember the time Slughorn compared your essay to some posh pureblood’s in front of the whole class. You _must_ want to get back at him for humiliating you like that?”

Remus tries to snatch his wrist back, but James just pulls him closer. He sighs, “Listen, Prongs. Dumbledore had to beg Slughorn to even consider returning this year. I’m not going to screw up his hard work, especially after all the trouble he went through to hire me.”

James scoffs, but releases him. “Shouldn’t have been any trouble to begin with. You’re better than the last dozen DADA professors they’ve had through this place. Trust me, I’ve heard some stories. If the Ministry wasn’t a huge sack of hippogriff-”

“Nevertheless,” Remus cuts him off calmly. “I owe Dumbledore. We both do.”

James winces at the reminder. His right knee begins to throb as if it had heard Remus, too. His healer had given him a potion for the pain, but he refused to take it, because it made him feel dizzy and like a git for needing a potion at all.

Despite the pain, James could not truthfully say he regretted going after those three Death Eaters by himself. Apparently, a decade at the Ministry hadn’t been enough to curb the reckless marauder inside of him.

James had explicitly ignored Scrimgeour’s instructions to hold off on responding to the active crime scene, but people were in danger. As tough as he was, the Head Auror loved to bide his time until he could ensure a front-page worthy victory. James had no such reservations.

James is, however, over thirty. That's more than old enough to admit that his plan, or lack thereof, had needed a bit more stealth. If it had, perhaps he would still have two spry knees and a stable job.

If Dumbledore had not requested him personally to guard the chosen one, James surely would have been sacked after his three months of ‘recovery leave’.

Remus nudges him lightly out of his reverie. There’s a small smile on his face when he says, “Besides, If I remember correctly, _you_ were that posh pureblood whose essay was _oh so exemplary_.”

James chuckles, “No, I think you’re confused about that bit.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, maybe a shock of excitement would jog your memory.” He smirks and shakes the small vial of Blitz’s popping stones.

“Do me a favor and ignore me for the rest of the year.” Remus rolls his eyes and turns to face the rest of the Great Hall, which is buzzing in anticipation of the opening feast. James pouts.

“I second that request,” a voice says behind them.

James turns to find Lily Evans taking a seat on the other side of him. She looks every bit the serious professor with her hair tucked into a neat bun and shiny new robes that match her eyes. James hasn’t seen her since The Order meeting Kingsley had hosted early this summer. He had missed his friend, even if only to annoy her.

“If I recall correctly, Evans, it was _you _who had trouble ignoring me at Molly’s birthday dinner past spring,” he smirks, shuffling his hair. “Not that I minded.”

Lily narrows her eyes at him. Someone who didn’t know her as well as James would’ve missed the faint blush on her cheeks. Of course, she ignores him, leaning over to greet Remus. “How’s your husband? He made the biggest fuss about me leaving St. Mungo’s and hasn’t answered one of my owls since.”

“Ah yes, the loss of his ‘work-wife’ was one of Sirius’ bigger tantrums this summer. It was second only to the loss of his actual husband,” Remus sighs, gesturing to himself in the Great Hall as opposed to their small cottage in Kent. Lily smiles, but it’s a bit sad. James feels a sudden rush of longing for his very best friend. “Actually, he’s well, if not a bit lonely.”

“Of course,” Lily nods. “What would he do without his other half over here?” she gripes, pointing to James, who’s been sat pouting between the two.

Remus laughs loudly. “I can’t be sure. I was reading a letter about how much he missed me this morning and got halfway through before realizing it was for James. I left it on your desk, by the way.”

“Thank you,” James responds, rolling his eyes. “Now if you could please stop flirting with my ex-girlfriend right in front of me…”

“Stop reminding people about that,” Lily groans. “If it spreads to the students, I’m quitting.”

“It could only help your reputation,” James sniffs, in mock offense.

Lily does not get the chance to hex him then, because Dumbledore calls the hall to attention.

James zones out during the introductions except to raise his eyebrows at Evans upon hearing that she is on as a Charms Apprentice. _“Why did you think I was here?” “To stalk me. Ouch! Okay, sorry.” _It’s not until Remus nudges him that he realizes Dumbledore must be talking about his presence in the castle.

“…Auror Stunchorn has taken leave with his family in the Mediterranean coast. Auror Potter has been kind enough to fill his position. With the increased number of violent incidents in Wizarding Britain, we are beyond thankful for the Ministry’s continued… assistance.”

James wonders how the Headmaster manages to keep the venom out of his voice. There is no way Dumbledore is pleased about the Ministry’s involvement at Hogwarts. At best, it was a fluff position to cover the whole lot of nothing they were doing against Lord Voldemort. At worst, it was a means of getting the Dark Lord’s supporters into the castle.

James did find it interesting that Stunchorn had a sudden longing for the French countryside mere weeks after the Order had been tipped off to some of his darker hobbies.

The headmaster locks eyes with him as he concludes his speech. James wonders, not for the first time, why he was here. Surely, there was someone more qualified, and less reckless, to protect the Wizarding World’s only hope against the dark side.

As McGonagall begins the sorting ceremony, James looks to the crowd of cowering first years, trying to spot the savior.

“Neville is at the back,” Lily whispers. He doesn’t bother asking how she knew he had been searching.

“You know him? I didn’t think Augusta let him leave the house.”

“She doesn’t,” Lily grimaces. “He’s got light blonde hair, like Alice, remember? He’s the one standing next to Molly’s youngest boy.”

That certainly makes him easier to spot. The shock of red hair sticks out amongst the crowd. _Ron_, James remembers fondly. The boy had been caught trying to listen in on an Order meeting last year.

Then it must be Neville who stands next to the small Weasley, hands clutching fiercely at his toad. Another boy with messy, black hair is patting clumsily at Neville’s back, as if worried he would keel over.

The Great Hall erupts into whispers as Neville approaches the stand. James is pleased when he is sorted into Gryffindor despite the boy's nervous demeanor. Lily’s eyes are a little teary after that.

James thinks of Frank and Alice, wasting away in St. Mungo’s. Did Lily visit them often? Did Sirius? James pulls her hand into his and Remus covers both of theirs with his own, never looking away from the sorting.

In that moment, James feels very warm and very strong. _‘…and a tad bit ungrateful’_, he thinks sheepishly. There he was, with some of his closest friends and in a place that he once considered a home. It was far better than his stuffy Ministry cubicle.

For a moment, he basks in the warmth of Great Hall. He’s thinking that perhaps his life has changed for the better, when Professor McGonagall calls a ‘Harry Potter’ up to be sorted.

_Odd, _James thinks, when the same boy who had been comforting Neville approaches the hat.

“Do you have relatives in Britain?” Remus whispers, noticing too the boy’s dark brown skin and thick, messy hair.

James shakes his head. Gringotts loved to remind him that his was the last line of the Potter family and he should take care to see it continue. James had no siblings or cousins. The boy could not be one of _his _Potters.

“Perhaps he’s a Muggleborn. Potter is a common name amongst non-magic folk, right?” James suggests. His friends do not respond.

Harry Potter’s sorting takes longer than average. The resemblance is truly incredibly the longer James stares. The poor kid even seems to have his family’s horrid eyesight. For a moment, James entertains the thought that this is some elaborate prank, courtesy of Padfoot.

He could not tell you why he breathes a sigh of relief when the hat calls out “Gryfffindor!” Harry Potter looks a bit surprised and frowns briefly at the Slytherin table before moving to a seat next to Neville.

The sorting continues as James tries to shake the worry settling under his skin.

“Perhaps one of my relatives were disowned way back when and… had a few sprogs,” James tries for nonchalant, but his voice is too high. Remus and Lily share a look.

“Perhaps,” Lily nods. Merlin bless her, because she looks so torn between being sympathetic and using common sense. “But the Potters aren’t exactly the type to blow you off the family tapestry, are they?”

Remus, much more willing to let James revel in his bullshit, shrugs and says, “It’s just a coincidence, Prongs, unless you have a kid you don’t know about.” He chuckles, albeit forced. James hopes he manages a believable smile.

Suddenly, James is not in the Great Hall but rather in his old flat on Pemberly Crescent, begging the boy he loved to stop packing his things and _listen to me, goddammit!_ The war had been so new, as had their relationship. When Regulus left their flat that night, James thought the boy had just gone to crash at Padfoot and Moony’s. He didn’t even consider that the young Black had been prepared to leave behind everything and everyone.

That was a lifetime ago. _A __little over eleven years_, James thinks, cringing.

Regulus had been so frightened then, James remembers, dread rushing down his skull. Could he have found out he was pregnant and, what, runaway? Why? James hadn’t been a perfect boyfriend, but surely, _surely_, Regulus cared enough to let him know. Right?

The questions are making him dizzy and his knee hurts something horrid.

“Yes, a weird coincidence,” James agrees, sending reassuring looks to his friends.

He tries to eat his food as if the broom hadn’t just been pulled out from under him at fifty feet high. He almost convinces himself of it too, until he chances a look towards Gryffindor table and finds Harry Potter’s sharp grey eyes piercing into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I live for drama? Haha. In case anyone was wondering, Severus never needed Dumbledore's help to protect Lily, and so never became the Potion's Professor, but more on that later. What did you think? Leave a comment!


	2. he's a prat to everyone

James has been reeling since the Sorting Ceremony. No matter how hard he tries to distract himself, he cannot shake the feeling that Harry Potter is more than just some muggleborn with whom he shares a name and a face.

James wishes desperately that he was the sort to let sleeping dragons lie, but the similarities are too striking. Even his dreams plague him with reminders of the terrifying and impossible truth: he has a son.

Of course, he can’t be certain. Remus, bless him, had sent a letter to Sirius, explaining the situation and asking him to review The Black Family Tapestry. A part of James hopes that Sirius will be too disgusted at the thought of visiting his ancestral home, but he knows his best mate will do anything for him.

_‘Padfoot never approved of us’_, James remembers, wryly. Sirius had known James would dive headfirst into the relationship, never stopping to temper the intensity of his feelings. His best mate also believed that Regulus had been too vulnerable to reciprocate, having only recently escaped Lord Voldemort’s ranks and their parents’ influence.

Sirius had been right, of course, but James was naïve and romantic and could not wait to begin his life with someone he loved. Despite the war, James had hoped Regulus would be that person. Obviously, his ex had not felt the same way. In fact, if his theory proved correct, Regulus had decided that raising a son alone was better than a life with James.

_‘And there’s nothing I can do about it,’_ James thinks, sorrow rushing through him like a midnight chill. Harry already had a life without him. He didn’t need James and, Merlin, that was the worst part. James has always hated feeling useless.

No amount of consoling from Remus and Lily had calmed him. In truth, there hadn’t been the time. The very next day, his two friends began their new positions with gusto. He couldn’t blame them. James should have as well, but it was much easier to wallow in his chambers where no one could see him gulping fire whiskey in the middle of the day.

That got very lonely, very quickly. In a fit of desperation, he sought out Professor McGonagall for advice or an obliviation or anything really. She had been thoroughly unimpressed with how he had chosen to handle the situation, essentially telling him to act like an adult and get back to work.

She hadn’t even offered him a biscuit.

So, four days after the sorting ceremony, he woke up and, well…got to work. Runaway exes and long, lost sons aside, he was here to protect the chosen one.

Scrimgeour had requested weekly reports on any potential threats to the castle. James thought that this was a bit excessive. Especially because he _knew_ that Stunchorn had only turned in reports monthly. Nevertheless, he was behind.

After a few days patrolling the grounds and shadowing the boy, James quickly realized that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were rarely far from Neville Longbottom. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. His luck had been on the downward spiral for some time now.

It might have been easier for him to remain inconspicuous around the three if Ron didn’t know him personally, Neville hadn’t been told he was there for his protection and Harry Potter wasn’t his bloody twin.

That’s how he ends up sheepishly approaching the trio, who are lounging by the black lake in between classes. Ron waves him over enthusiastically.

“Hey, Auror Potter!” Ron shouts, beaming up at him.

James coughs, “Er, hello, boys.”

“I told mum you were here, and she said to mention that you forgot to come round for tea again. But, don’t feel like you must. That’s me talking, not mum. Lots of people ‘forget’ to come round for tea.”

“Um, thank you?” James smiles bemusedly at the three. Neville is not making eye contact with him and Harry Potter won’t stop trying.

The redhead seems to notice this as well. “Do you guys know Auror Potter? He’s an Auror!”

Harry snorts, “Really? I think I missed that bit Ron. Did you know that, Neville?” Neville gives a small chuckle and looks away. James shuffles his hair, just as nervous. Harry follows the movement with narrowed eyes. “If you’re some big shot Auror, then why are you at Hogwarts?”

He spoke so confidently for such a young boy, as if it was James’ duty to answer him. It was getting easier for James to believe that Harry had been raised by a Black. 

Ron saves him from saying something stupid, like the truth. “You _know_ why he’s here. You even said he was like one of those muggle guard buddies for Neville.” 

Harry’s cheeks heat up and he points his chin towards the lake.

“I think you mean ‘body-guard’, bud,” James corrects, kindly.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it!” Ron nods quickly. “How do you know so much about muggles, Auror Potter? Are you married to one?” 

James notices Harry’s back straighten at the question. “No, no, not married,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll ever be married either.” _Ouch._ “And don’t mind, Harry. He’s a prat to everyone. He complained the whole first night about not being sorted into Slytherin! Who _wants_ to be a Slytherin? They’re all insane!”

“Oy!” Harry throws a stone at the redhead. “My dad was in Slytherin!”

“You also said your dad’s closest friend is his house elf. My point stands.”

The two begin rough housing on the ground. It takes James embarrassingly long to remember that he’s an adult and should stop the tussle, friendly as it was.

He decides to hold back Ron’s shoulders, worried that Harry Potter might bite him or explode if James touched him.

The redhead, at least, looks apologetic. “My bad, Auror Potter. I didn’t even ask. Which house were you in?” And his blue eyes are so obviously worried that James is about to utter the word ‘Slytherin’, that the Auror laughs out loud, followed closely by Neville and Harry.

“Don’t worry, Ron. He’s a Gryffindor, like you, ” Harry placates.

“Like _you_, too!” Ron throws his hands up in frustration. “Wait. How did you know that?”

Harry’s eyes widen at having been caught out. James sucks in a breath.

He had been so caught up in not knowing about Harry's existence, that he hadn’t stopped to consider what Harry knew about him. Did Harry think their name and resemblance were just some strange coincidence, or had Regulus told Harry about his other father? If so, how much?

He’s getting dizzy again and his knee is beginning to throb. He takes that as a sign to depart. “I’ll be, er, heading back to the castle, boys.”

“Are you alright, Auror Potter?” Surprisingly, it’s Neville that asks the question, eyes focused on where James was clutching his thigh.

“Oh, yes. Nothing a little rest won’t fix. Um, study hard.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s the first week of classes.”

James blushes. “Right, of course. Well, then, don’t study. At all,” he nods, decisively.

He must be really dizzy, because Harry Potter is smiling at him. It’s not a smirk or eyebrow raise or sharp glare, but an actual smile, like James is a lost puppy or something. He doesn’t dwell on if that’s a good thing or not before making his way up to the castle.

The encounter seems to embolden Harry. Each time he spots the Auror in a corridor, he stops him for a talk, and each time, James feels a bit lighter.

Mostly, they talk about classes or what’s being served in the Great Hall, but sometimes Harry would ask him questions about his day or his life. On one occasion James stutters through a lie about what an honor it was to be assigned as Hogwarts Patrol. James certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. After all, hearing that your absent father had narrowly avoided being sacked could not be good for a child’s development.

They don’t talk about Regulus.

Still, James comes to enjoy these little chats. McGonagall spots them once and simply asks, _Are you enjoying your work, Mr. Potter?, _with a small smile one her lips. She does not wait for an answer before strolling along. James rolls his eyes.

He learns that Harry is horrible at potions and loves Remus’ DADA class. He learns that Harry often gets in fights with Ron but considers him a great friend, and feels a little dumb when partnered with a muggleborn girl in his year. He also enjoys spending time with Neville even though the boy prefers to keep to himself.

Actually, James had noticed the latter before Harry told him. The three Gryffindors seemed to get on well enough, but after the first couple weeks of classes Neville began to withdraw from the other two.

James supposes it makes sense. Having been raised in fear of Lord Voldemort _and_ Augusta Longbottom, Neville must have oak-thick, social walls. The boy was often found alone. Yet, he did not seem particularly lonely. He was always smiling as he tended to his plants in the greenhouses and made mud beds for his toad.

Unless he was willing to pen a treatise on the highs and lows of an unexpected, potential fatherhood, James had very little to write in his reports. The castle defenses were airtight. Neville was safe with his plants. James was back to feeling redundant in his position.

Then, in late September, he’s called to the Headmaster’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooow. James handles stress about as well as I do. But he came around eventually. Snaps for James! Now, what does Dumbledore want? Tell me what you think!!


	3. strict rules about procreating with members of The Order

James wonders if he’s about to lose his job. It’s become quite a familiar thought over the past few months.

Prior to the sorting ceremony, James would not have been entirely upset by the prospect. Demoralizing as it was to be sacked, he welcomed a chance to be separated from the Ministry. 

He didn’t need the money, as Sirius would remind him each time James considered resigning. It was true, but James knew that he needed the sense of purpose being an Auror provided. 

So, no matter how many anti-werewolf policies they spat out, or promotions they gave to the known Death Eaters strutting about the corridors, James would stay. He would fight. And if ever the time came when the Auror Department decided they were done with him, well they could have his finger and a smile on the way out.

_‘…but that was before Harry’_ James thinks, solemnly.

If he were to lose this post, he would lose all chance of finding out the truth about Harry and building something real between them. A few casual chats barely made for a lasting parent-child relationship. If James left the castle now, he would fade from the boy’s memory as quick as his potion’s readings. Perhaps he could return to visit Evans over the Christmas holidays and spend time with Harry then?

“…spending time with Harry Potter.” Dumbledore’s voice breaks through his reverie. _Wait. Had he been speaking a loud?_

“Pardon me, Professor? I was lost in thought.”

Dumbledore’s eyes are twinkling. “No worries, my boy. I was only recalling that I’ve noticed you speaking with young Mr. Potter on more than one occasion.”

“Oh. Um, yes?” _Dumbledore had called this meeting to talk about Harry? _

“A few staff members and I remembered, quite fondly, that you looked just like Mister Potter at that age. And then of course there are the names…” he hums. “Please don’t accuse us of being the gossips we surely are,” he laughs, lightly. “But we can’t help but be _curious_ as to whether there’s a family connection there.”

“Perhaps there is,” James shrugs. “Many witches and wizards share a bloodline.”

“True indeed. In fact, I seem to recall you sharing a distant relative with Mr. Black, as well, do you not? Yet, you boys only met upon entering Hogwarts, and my, look how close you became. Quite the twist of fate, is it not?”

James narrows his eyes. There’s something about the way Dumbledore says ‘Mr. Black’ instead of Sirius, that puts him on edge.

James respected the hell out of the Headmaster, but absolutely detested when the condescending old coot tried to force him into play. After joining The Order, he had learned quickly to assume Dumbledore knew everyone’s secrets. The Headmaster _must_ have known Harry would be attending Hogwarts when he requested James for the position. James would not tolerate these mind games, not about Harry.

“You’re wrong,” James says, tightly.

“Pardon me?”

“You’re wrong. Sirius and I met before Hogwarts. And as much as I would love to satisfy your _curiosity_, I know next to nothing about Harry Potter or his family. In fact,” James grumbles, spurred on by his frustration towards everything he did not know, everything that had been kept from him. “_Y__ou_ would be much more informed about his family, than I. After all, you did invite him to the school. So, Professor,” - his breaths are sharp and he’s clutching at his knee - “if you could save me the time and energy it would take to muddle through your double meanings, pull out your records on Harry Potter and tell me what you would like me to know about him, then it would save us both some time.”

“I’ve offended you,” Dumbledore says after a moment of silence. James does not respond. “I do apologize for the way I approached this topic. I should’ve respected you enough to be direct in this matter. It’s just, you see, Harry Potter presents quite the anomaly within ‘my records’ as you call them. I was wondering if perhaps your talks with him could fill in a few gaps.”

“Anomaly?” James asks, a bit concerned. _Was Harry alright?_

“Yes, quite. His one listed parent left only a name with no address nor other means of contact.”

“An owl could find anyone,” James reasons.

“Of course, but some matters require a bit more urgency.”

“Do you think Harry Potter is in urgent danger, professor? Shall I add him to my roster?” James deadpans.

Dumbledore gives him a sharp look. “I am merely concerned about my student. Hagrid was requested to escort the boy to Diagon Alley upon receiving his Hogwarts letter. Molly Weasley says she herself helped the boy through the King’s Cross barrier. I simply wonder if perhaps our services will be needed again when the time comes for Mr. Potter to return home, wherever that may be.”

“I’m sure his parents will contact you if that’s the case.” James sighs, standing to leave, frustrated and confused. _Why was Regulus being so secretive? Was Harry often left to fend for himself?_

“Parent,” Dumbledore corrects.

“Excuse me?”

“The boy only has one parent listed on his record, as I’ve said.”

James nods, tightly. “Right, of course. Are we done?”

“No, I have another matter to discuss with you, if that’s alright.” 

James tries to rein in his breathing before taking a seat again. "Which matter?"

Dumbledore eyes him over the rim of his spectacles.“First let me apologize again. I did not mean to upset you earlier. In fact, I require a favor.”

“That’s alright. Things have been… tense,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What do you need?”

“It would be easier if I showed you.”

Dumbledore rises from his seat, moving to open a cupboard on the far wall. Out floats a pensieve. It’s more ornate than the one his father owned years and years ago. James moves to stand by the Headmaster, who pulls a vial from his robes.

“Who does the memory belong to?” James asks, warily. He had never seen the Headmaster so solemn.

“Horace Slughorn.”

«»«»«»

It had been unsettling for James to see Lord Voldemort as a young man. The boy in Slughorn’s memory was far from the red-eyed, gruesome creature he knew. Tom Riddle was a handsome, charming, model student, who was on his was to becoming Head Boy – just like James had done.

Is that why Dumbledore thinks James will be the one to get through to the potions professor? Slughorn certainly favored him in their school days, but would that be enough for the man to reveal his role in shaping the darkest wizard that ever lived? Not likely.

His task was daunting, and only the first step to one far more terrifying: finding and destroying Voldemort’s horcruxes.

Truthfully, James is overwhelmed by all he’s learned from Dumbledore and the memory. He just wants to relax by his fire with a glass of nettle wine. Perhaps he should mirror-call Sirius. That always eases his mind.

However, he enters his chambers to find Remus and Lily whispering furiously on his couch. They jump a bit when he slams the door.

“What’s happened?” he asks warily, plopping down between them.

Remus draws a leg under himself before handing James a letter. He recognizes his best friend’s curvy, posh handwriting immediately. “Sirius wrote back. It’s as we expected.” The werewolf rubs at a scar on his neck.

James holds tight to the letter, but his eyes won’t focus on the words. Thankfully, Lily summarizes, “Harry James Potter, born July 31st 1980, son of Regulus Black and, er, James Potter, of course.”

James turns to her with wide eyes. “Harry _James_?” he chokes out. He feels wonderful and horrible and confused beyond belief. “I don’t understand,” he groans, trying to calm himself by putting his head between his legs.

Lily traces circles across his back. “We knew this was a possibility. And I thought, well, after the last few weeks and how you are after seeing Harry, that you _hoped_ he would be yours.”

“No, no, I do. Of course, I do.” He sits up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so happy. I can’t even tell you the last time I felt this good. It’s just, I don’t understand. If Regulus was going to name him after me and _tell him_ about me, then why couldn’t I be a part of his life?”

“Oh Prongs, I’m so sorry.” Remus pulls him close and Lily loops her arm through his own. “I can’t tell you what Regulus was thinking. Do you remember anything from the day he left?”

_I remember everything_, James thinks, but says, “He was scared. Scared out of his mind. We all were.” His friends nod. “He kept saying ‘_He’ll come for me. He’ll come for me!’_. It was the thick of war. I tried to convince him that Voldemort had more important things on his mind than some kid. He was paranoid beyond reason. Still is, apparently,” James mutters.

“What do you mean?” Lily asks, drawing in her eyebrows.

“Something Dumbledore said earlier. Regulus didn’t disclose any emergency contact information, and he sent Harry off to Hogwarts on his own.”

Remus bites his lip. “Lots of Death Eaters have defected. What could Regulus have done to make him think Voldemort would chase him for over a decade?”

“Perhaps there were strict rules about procreating with members of The Order,” James quips, but his voice is cold.

“Listen, James. It won’t do you any good dwelling on the past. All you have is right now, here, with Harry.”

“You’re right, Evans. You’re always right.” He nudges her and she flips her hair as if to say _‘I know’_. James smiles. “You know, I reckon Harry likes me now.”

“He’s got good taste,” Remus nods.

“At the very least, he thinks I’m a non-threatening idiot.”

“And he’s smart.” That was Lily.

“Merlin, we almost forgot!” Remus cries, shooting up.

Lily’s eyes widen as Moony’s excitement spreads to her. “Oh, yes! McGonagall told us at dinner. You’ll be well pleased.”

“Well, come on then, out with it.”

James is eager to know what’s got his friends worked up. Even so, he can’t imagine anything could properly cheer him right now.

“Harry made the Quidditch team! He’ll be Gryffindor’s Seeker, the youngest in a generation!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dumbledore be knowin. periodt. lol. Anyway, the next chapter is from Harry's perspective! I'm excited!! Are you?


	4. never would have met a werewolf in cornwall

Few things bring Harry quite as much joy as smacking Ron Weasley upside the head.

“Oy! What was that for?”

“Granger heard what you said about her.”

“She deserved it, the know-it-all, and mind you, it was true! She _doesn’t _have any friends.”

“True, huh? I’ll remember that next time Malfoy mentions how much money your family _doesn’t_ have.”

“Oh sod off, Harry,” the redhead mutters, kneeling down to pick up the books he dropped when Harry had hit him. “I swear, _Percy_ judges me less.”

“I’m happy to fill in his gaps,” Harry smiles.

They’ve not yet left the Charms classroom. Despite Ron and Hermione’s tiff, it had been a good class. Sure, Harry couldn't manage the levitation charm and had lost a hat to Seamus’ fire, but he loved when Professor Evans subbed for Flitwick. She was funny and brilliant and Ron got so tongue tied around her that he was usually less of a prat.

“I’ll show you something you can fill,” Ron snaps, a bit too loud, and twists around to check if Professor Evans had heard him. She hadn’t. Their professor was currently engrossed in a conservation with Neville Longbottom, which was quite the feat, considering the chosen one barely spoke.

They’re speaking too softly for Harry to hear, but every now and then Professor Evans would pat the boy’s head, ever so gentle. The gesture reminds Harry of his dad – his real dad, not the perfectly nice but practical stranger of a parent he’s got bumbling about the castle.

Not for the first time, he wonders how his dad was getting on without him. Was Kreacher making sure he left the house at least once a day, like Harry had asked? Regulus Black had a way of getting lost in his head.

_And I guess it’s rubbed off on me_, Harry laughs to himself, upon realizing that Ron has been waving a hand in front of his face for the last few moments.

“Daydreaming about life in the dungeons again?” Ron mocks.

“Oh, always,” Harry sighs, wistfully, only half joking. Ron elbows him in the abdomen before the two make their way to the defense classroom.

Harry had hoped that he would be in Slytherin, even begged the hat to reconsider. Despite the house’s reputation and the rather unfortunate existence of Draco Malfoy – _seriously, how am I related to that bloke?_ – he had wanted to be in his dad’s house. Harry pushes down the thought that technically he had been sorted into his father’s house, just not in the way he imagined.

Regulus had not said anything when Harry promised him to be a Slytherin, like him. _Did he know I was too much like James Potter for that to happen, or did he just not want it for me?_ After all, his dad’s whole family had been Slytherins, except for his older brother Sirius, and Regulus had left them all behind. Then again, his dad also ran away from James Potter, Gryffindor Extraordinaire.

Harry’s dad never kept his other parent a secret, far from it. He had given Harry all three of Auror Potter’s family names, told him stories from their time at Hogwarts and even shared what few photographs he had of the man.

Regulus was simultaneously forthcoming and vague about his life before Harry. It frustrated the boy to no end. _Sure, admitting you were on the wrong side of a deadly war is no problem, but telling me why you left the man you love to hide away in Cornwall would be too emotionally taxing?_

Of course, Harry had asked to meet James Potter years and years ago. However, it was a battle convincing Regulus to simply let him play in their local park. Harry’s lucky he was even allowed to attend Hogwarts and, trust him, there had been push back.

Still, Harry wished desperately to tell his dad everything that had happened to him since arriving in the castle. He was, however, under strict instructions not to write until Regulus did so first, as he would be doing research ‘out of the country’. _'Wh__atever that means’_, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes. 

His dad had always been very secretive about his research. He locked his study whenever he wasn’t inside the room. Luckily for Harry, Regulus fell asleep at his desk on more than one occasion, allowing the young boy to sneak inside and peruse over his notes. Harry hadn’t understood most of it, but one word came up repeatedly: _horcrux_. 

Harry did not know what a horcrux was and did not dare ask. Whatever the magical object was, simply researching it scared his father enough to believe he was being targeted and that Harry’s letters would be used to track him down. Harry seriously doubted that would happen but agreed to the insane request anyway.

Therefore, the last time Harry ‘heard’ from his dad, was when his Animagus had given the boy a rather impatient ‘meow’ and nudged his legs to towards the ginger family approaching Platform 9 ¾ .

Regulus Black was truly a strange creature. Harry missed him like anything.

He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he’s surprised when he enters the defense room. Even more surprising is that Ron hadn’t uttered a single word along the way. Harry didn’t think it was possible for Ron to be silent. Something must be very wrong.

Harry notices how he ducks his head when Hermione Granger takes the seat in front of them. _Could he be feeling guilty? _As crass and abrasive and _gryffindor_ as Ronald Weasley was, Harry considered him a good friend, maybe his best. He did not like to see those blue eyes so glum, even if the boy deserved it.

He nudges the redhead’s foot with his own and whispers, “I bet the house elves have done up something special for Halloween. Maybe stuffing your face with pumpkin pie will get that teary look off your face, hm?”

“Oy! I’m a growing boy and I’m not _teary_, geez.” Ron rolls his eyes at the teasing, but the thought of dinner does seem to cheer him.

“Right, and it was Scabbers who ate the last of my hidden pasties,” he deadpans.

Professor Lupin shoots them a stern look as he begins his lesson. Harry tries his best to look apologetic.

He knew Professor Lupin was close friends with his father – not the one who raised him, but the one who looked like him and got excited over popping stones and ruined his chance of ever being in Slytherin.

Anyway, Harry wanted to be on good terms with the professor. _He had been engaged to my uncle after all. Had they gone through with the wedding? Were they married still? _Either way, Lupin is practically family, and Harry is seriously lacking in that department.

Harry also knows that the man is a werewolf. He didn’t particularly mind because his dad hadn’t seemed bothered when he told him, and the professor was nice enough. Harry thought it was rather cool, actually. He never would have met a werewolf in Cornwall.

In fact, Hogwarts had given him a brand-new life. Here, Harry had interesting classes, new friends and endless adventures. He had met a whole other parent and made Quidditch history in less than two months. Harry would never admit it out loud but he loved everything about this castle, even his thick-headed, Gryffindor mates and ridiculous, almost-dad, James.

«»«»«»

Harry’s life at Hogwarts was terrible. He hated everyone in this castle, especially his thick-headed, Gryffindor ‘mates’ and ridiculous, never-dad, James.

Harry fumes as he stomps up to the owlery. How had things gone wrong so quickly? He had been happy a few hours ago, hadn’t he? That was before the Halloween Feast and the troll in the bathroom. _You were happy then too_, the reckless Gryffindor inside him whispers.

Truthfully, fighting the troll had given him such a rush. He can still feel the adrenaline if he thinks about Hermione’s face when they busted through the door, Ron’s pride when he cast the levitation charm and even Neville’s fear as he threw a wand at the humongous creature. Terrifying as the encounter had been, Harry had felt like he was a part of something special.

And then the professors had come. Professors McGonagall, Evans and Lupin had barreled through the door alongside Auror Potter. They had looked equal parts terrified and furious.

Harry had grinned; he remembers. He knew from the stories that James Potter liked mischief and was secretly pleased they had gotten caught. He had looked at the man and opened his mouth to say something cheeky, “This stall is-”

James Potter had cut him off. He had cried, “Thank, Merlin, you’re safe!”, and ran over to engulf Neville in a hug. _Neville!_

Auror Potter and Professor Evans had fussed over the chosen one like he was a porcelain doll. Harry had realized then that he wasn’t a part of anything special at all. In fact, he was all alone. Neville had people who cared about his safety and stroked his hair, while Harry had two dads who ignored his very existence.

He hadn’t heard McGonagall’s lecture. He had left the moment it ended. He thinks Professor Lupin had tried to grab his arm. It didn’t matter either way.

Now, he pushes open the door to the owlery and pulls a treat for Hedwig out of his pocket. He has a letter to send, promises be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love ron okay. harry and regulus live in cornwall because i'm obsessed with poldark. let me know what you think!


	5. i hate being on an island

Ever since his meeting with Dumbledore, James has been hyperaware of Neville Longbottom. Of course, the worst the boy had suffered since coming to Hogwarts was a minor wrist injury during flying lessons. It’s not like an attempt had been made on his life.

But James’ conversation with the Headmaster left him spooked. _If Voldemort was willing to go to such lengths to live forever, what would he do to the boy destined to stop him? _No, Voldemort’s inaction would not last.

James tries to be covert about his patrol. After all, he wants Neville to have as normal of a Hogwart’s experience as possible. Though, oblivious as Neville could be, he often sniffed the Auror out and the two would talk or sit quietly. Neville was sweet as his parents had been, and ten times as clumsy. James enjoyed the time with him, though felt he was enabling the boys’ antisocial behaviour. 

Still, spending time with Neville was far better than sucking up to Slughorn. It had been so long since James had to pretend to be charming. He used to be quite good at it. However, being an Auror didn’t require refined, persuasion tactics,at least not the way James went about his business. He wanted desperately to shake the old man and make him understand what was at stake if he did not fork up the real memory. Obviously, that wasn’t an option, but James could not sit through another fruitless tea date with Slughorn…at least not by himself.

That is how James finds himself on the receiving end of Lily Evan’s patented glare as they wait for old Sluggy to return with the tea. It’s nice to know that some things never change. 

“You realize,” she drawls, “that I would be a lot more help, if I _knew_ what I was helping with.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t allow it.” James sighs, deep and tired. “Of course I _want_ to tell you. You know how much I hate being on an island.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and James fears he’s about to receive a lecture. _Seriously, what was keeping Slughorn? _Instead she sighs, “Just, ugh, yes or no, alright? This has something to do with Lord Voldemort?” James nods. “And…Neville?” He hesitates but nods again. Her breath hitches.

Lily does not respond, because at that moment Slughorn reenters his lounge room, looking as cheerful as ever.

“Oh, ho! An old colleague sent me some Phoenix Oolong fresh from the Wu Dong Mountains of China. Of course, only the best for two of my favorite students.” He winks, settling down on the chaise across from the pair. “Please, have some more biscuits. Prue Leith baked them for me herself. You must’ve met her at one of my gatherings all those years ago, yes?”

James blinks at him. Lily nods enthusiastically.

“Of course, we do! You always did drum up a memorable crowd,” Lily assures while taking a sip of her tea, and then lets out a small, pleased moan. If James were as good of a bullshitter as she was, he would’ve had that memory weeks ago.

The two continue reminiscing, but James has little to contribute. While at Hogwarts, James only attended slug club parties for free booze and so that the potions professor would turn a blind eye to some of their more outlandish pranks on the Slytherins. _‘…and one other reason,’_ James remembers sheepishly. Slughorn’s parties were where he had gotten to know Regulus as more than just his best mate’s little brother.

Sigh. Regulus. James tries hard not to think too deeply about his ex these days. It was becoming increasingly difficult, especially as a picture of him sat on Slughorn’s bloody mantle. _He looks good there. Would I recognize him now?_

Lily knocks her leg against his for drifting off. He smiles at her in apology. The two turn back to Slughorn who’s looking at them with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ah, you two! Always been so caught up in each other. Tell me, why haven’t you married yet?”

Lily nearly chokes on her tea. James throws an arm around her shoulders, smirking at the professor. “You know this one. I couldn’t pull her away from work with a dragon’s tooth.”

Lily digs her nails into his thigh. Slughorn laughs, merrily. “Ahh, of course. I always knew Ms. Evans would be an accomplished witch. Tell me, how are you finding your Apprenticeship? Flitwick tells me your researching the effects of anesthetic charms on younger patients.”

“Ah, I enjoy it immensely, but the details are quite dull,” Lily waves him off. “Enough about us, how have you been doing? Seen much of your old students lately? I see you’ve got Regulus Black’s photo around the room a few times,”

James eyes widen. He had only noticed the one photo, but after a cursory glance about the room he realizes there were three more with Reg. What was Lily playing at?

Slughorn looks miles away as he studies the photo on the mantle, “Oh, students come and go, and Regulus was always a f-f-favorite of mine,” he coughs and begins fiddling with his vest. “Unfortunately, no, I haven’t seen Regulus in many years, and even that was a rather short visit. I don’t remember much of it. Were you close with him?”

James allows himself to breathe. Regulus was as much of a mystery to Slughorn as he was to everyone else. Hopefully, they could change the topic. It’s Lily who replies, “We’re close with his older brother, you know. We haven’t seen him in a very long time either.” She sounds so concerned that James almost believes it himself.

“Oh my, I’m very sorry. I do wish I could help.” He sounds sincere as he looks upon the morose redhead. “As I’ve said, he didn’t stay, and that must’ve been a decade ago if not more. My memory’s not as sharp as I would like it to be.”

“That’s alright –“ James begins, ready for this conversation to be over, but Slughorn cuts him off.

“Now, that I recall, it was the strangest thing,” the professor hums. “Regulus brought a child with him when he came to my house. _Ah, friends, don’t look so alarmed!_ I doubt the child belonged to him,” Slughorn chuckles lightly at their obvious horror. “Pureblood families usually have grand celebrations to announce these kinds of things and I certainly would’ve remembered that invitation.” 

_Yes, they do_, James thinks, _but not for the spawn of blood traitors and disgraced heirs._

The rest of the evening is torture for James. Thankfully, Lily manages to cut it short while still being polite. She has to lead James back to her office for how far down the hole he’s dropped. It’s only when she shuts the door that he exclaims, “What the _buggering_ fuck?”

“I know, but-”

“What the buggering, fuck!”

“Listen James-“

“He sods off to Merlin knows where with _my kid _and not a word for twelve years, Lily, _twelve years_, but can make time for social calls with _Slughorn_! What the fuck?!”

“That hardly seems like it was the case, Potter.”

“Then what does it seem like to you, _Evans_?” James hisses her name like a curse. A very small part of him whispers that he’s being unfair. She had come tonight to help him.

Lily takes a deep breath. He hates when she plays the calm adult. It leaves him to be the petulant child. “It _seems_ like Regulus needed something, maybe information or even help with Harry. Slughorn knows a lot of people. He’s an asset in any situation.”

“Help I couldn’t give him?” James feels horribly bitter. He shrugs off his robe and props himself on Lily’s desk to let his knee rest.

“I know it sucks to be left in the dark, James, but at least we’ve found out something useful tonight.”

“How do you figure?” All James had found tonight was more heartbreak and fancy biscuits that were giving him a stomachache.

“Whatever the information is that you need to get out of Slughorn, Regulus is your way in,” she explains. James raises an eyebrow, not following. “You said it yourself, Regulus is overly paranoid. Yet, he risked reentering the wizard world _with Harry_ to see Slughorn. That must mean something. At the very least, he trusts him. And Slughorn obviously cares a lot about, Reg.”

“True, but how does that help me? I’m not Regulus.”

“No, but you share a son with him. If you told him that Harry was the child he remembers, your child, then it would make him sympathetic to your cause. You could even bring Harry with you next time -

“No!” James snaps. “No way. I’m not bringing Harry into this mess.”

Lily steps back at his anger, face pinched. She looks ready to argue for a moment but deflates. The redhead runs a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. We can’t just use Harry to fight our battles. I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

For a long while, the only sound in the room is their breathing. Lily kicks off her shoes and hops on the desk next to James. This close, James can see dark circles forming under her eyes. He remembers something that bothered him earlier.

“Why did you dismiss Slughorn’s question? About your research, I mean.”

Lily stiffens. “I was just trying to keep us on track.”

“Evans.”

“Fine, you observant pest. I didn’t want to talk about my research because …it’s not going well,” she admits. James rubs a hand across her back. “I’ve been … distracted. It’s been harder than expected, being back in the castle with …everyone. Sometimes, I think I should just go back to St. Mungo’s.”

James knows there’s something more she’s not telling. He doesn’t press. They all have their secrets. Instead he says, “I would miss you, but Sirius would be significantly less of an arse if he had you back, so everybody wins.”

“I’ll be gone by morning then,” she deadpans.

James laughs. Silently, he prays she decides to stay. Selfish as it may be, this whole ordeal would have been a lot worse without her and Remus by his side. He sighs internally, thinking about their fight earlier, “Even if I wanted to do what you suggested, _and I don’t_, I couldn’t. Harry’s been avoiding me.”

“I thought you said things were good between you two.”

“They were. At least I thought they were. Now, there’s this wall and I don’t even know where it came from. Things changed around Halloween… after the troll.” They both shudder at the memory. “Harry stormed off before I could check him over. Maybe he thinks I should’ve gotten there sooner. It would make sense. Historically, I’m the guy who hasn’t shown up for him.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know, but kids rely on that sort of thing, don’t they?” James frowns. “Now I have to watch his Quidditch practices secretly, so he doesn’t get mad at me.”

Lily swats his arm. “You have to talk to him, Potter.” She tucks her head into his neck. “Yes, children are complicated. With your _unusual_ relationship, he’s not just going to show up at your door and tell you what he needs.”

James groans, “How about if tell him it was me who bought the broom McGonagall gave him? I think that would earn me some serious dad points.”

“Potter.”

“What? It’s true!”

“_Anyway_, while you’re talking to him, ask him if he could get his friend to lay off Hermione Granger. She’s the only muggleborn witch in their year. I’m quite fond of her when she’s not crying.”

“I _know_ who she is.” James rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you noticed, though? Her and the boys have been thick as thieves since the troll incident.”

From the look on her face, Lily obviously _had not_ noticed. “Oh dear, three little Gryffindors causing mischief about the castle? I know how this story ends.” They share a grin. Lily yawns, “It’s nice though, that they’ve made up. I wish all our problems would work themselves out that easily.”

He kisses her forehead and makes the same wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #friendshipgoals ... am i right? I wasn't going to post two chapters tonight but what the hell. I hope this provides some clarity (as they say in bachelor nation lol) Anyway, leave a comment as always! Thanks for reading!


	6. the utter torture of voicing our feelings

James thinks the castle must have heard his wish, because Harry Potter is standing outside his door. It is the morning after tea with Slughorn. James is still in his pyjamas, sure he must be imagining things.

Harry’s eyes flit across the auror’s face. James hands instinctively run through his hair. The boy sighs, lifts his small chin and states, “I have something to discuss with you, Auror Potter.”

James nods quickly even though he is beyond confused and moves out of the doorway to let the boy pass through.

He hates the way Harry says ‘Auror Potter’. It’s so detached. He wonders how weeks of progress in their relationship could be ruined so completely. Had Regulus found out James was at Hogwarts and asked Harry to keep his distance? That would be his right, as a parent, _‘but what about my rights?’_

Harry looks around the room. James feels self-conscious about the state of things. _Didn’t your mother ever tell you to keep the house clean in case your long-lost son pays a visit? _Harry fiddles with some books on James’ dining table, before taking a seat on one of the wooden stools. He looks up at him, expectant, so James takes a seat facing the boy. He feels like he has been called to McGonagall’s office.

“Do you want some tea?” James offers, to fill the silence.

Harry looks around his messy, open kitchen. The staff quarters were half the size of his actual flat and James had never tried to make it a ‘home’. Remus had told him to keep essentials in the cabinets, but why did he need a kitchen anyway? He ate all his meals in The Great Hall.

Harry scrunches his nose a bit. “Do you _have_ tea, Auror Potter?”

“Er no, actually,” James laughs. Regulus’ son indeed. “So, what did you have to ‘discuss’ with me?”

Grey eyes narrow. “Don’t laugh at me. This is important.”

“I wasn’t mocking you, Harry.” He had been, but could you blame him? Harry was such a haughty, little thing. The boy reminded him of Sirius in their first year, before all his pureblood manners had been thrown out of Gryffindor tower. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m mad curious.”

The boy looks away from him. James thinks it’s the first time he had seen him properly nervous. _Shit, what if Regulus really had told Harry to stay away from me and this was some sort of goodbye?_ James prepares himself for the worst, so he’s understandably surprised when Harry coughs and says, “Well, you know that I’ve been made Gryffindor’s seeker, right?”

“I do,” James smiles, though he’s a bit thrown off. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I found out a few days ago that you used to be on Gryffindor Quidditch team, as well.”

“They were some of the best years of my life.” James nods. “Did you want to borrow equipment? I should warn you Harry, they’ll be pretty rusty.”

“No, er, actually, could you help me practice for my first game?” the boy rushes out, only making eye contact at the last moment. When James does not immediately respond, Harry begins rambling. “It’s only, I _want_ to win, you know? Even if it’s for Gryffindor. I’ve seen you watching our practices.” _Merlin, that’s embarrassing._ “I thought you might be interested. I need help from the best, and the trophy room says that’s you.”

James is still too shocked to respond. Just yesterday, Harry had wanted nothing to do with him and today he wants James to train him. _What changed?_

Harry misinterprets his silence and mumbles, “I would have asked someone else but-”

“No,” James splutters.

Harry looks up at him, startled. His grey eyes are very wet. _Shit_.

“No?” his voice breaks, but he does not cry. Harry holds his chin high, sets his face into a scowl and stands up. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No, listen. I didn’t mean ‘no’ as in ‘no’ but ‘no’ as in ‘no, don’t do that’.” James wants to slap himself for how ridiculous he sounds.

“What?” Harry blinks at him. He looks like an owl behind his spectacles. James finds it rather adorable.

“Just go get your Nimbus,” the auror laughs, suddenly giddy. He hops up from his seat, opening the door for Harry. “I’ll meet you on the field in a few minutes.”

“Alright.” Harry’s got a small smile on his face. He pauses in the doorway. “Wait. How did you know what kind of broom I have?”

“Er, there’s a rumor going around,” James lies, smiling brightly.

He was going to teach _his son_ how to play _quidditch_!

«»«»«»

It was the perfect day for a fly. The sky was clear and the November chill bit at their cheeks. James thinks his face might freeze into a smile as he watches Harry cut through the air like he’s been doing it his whole life.

After a few drills, it’s obvious that Harry loves flying as much James. It’s also obvious that he does not need James’ help in the slightest. Harry remembers his plays perfectly. James only has a few, minor comments to add. Certainly, his captain could have refined these things in their final practice before the match.

_So, why did Harry ask me? _

James hopes, perhaps foolishly, that Harry’s ‘nerves’ this morning, were part of some ploy to trick James into spending time with him. It was a very Slytherin thing to do, and Harry loved to remind him that he was a snake at heart.

The two Potters float aimlessly above the pitch, having made an unspoken agreement to take a break. James uses the free time, as always, to watch Harry.

The boy seems so much lighter than he did this morning. Flying had released the joy trapped inside the tense, angry child who had been sulking about the castle these past few weeks. James feels a sudden urgency to _know _what he had done to make the boy close in on himself. Lily was right, he would have to instigate the utter torture of voicing their feelings.

James is nothing if not direct, so he says, “You’ve been upset.”

Harry wobbles a bit on his broom at the sudden statement. He looks over at James with wide eyes but seems to understand. He nods.

“With me?” Another nod. Harry looks away from him towards the castle. “Would you-” James struggles with the wording. “If you’re comfortable with telling me, I want to know. It’s been bothering me, not being able to talk to you, I mean.”

Harry turns back towards him, shocked by the confession. James can see a struggle in those expressive grey eyes. He curses himself for coming on too strong, and is about to back track when Harry takes a deep breath.

“It’s just, okay, Halloween was a lot, you know?” James nods. It had been one of the most terrifying nights of his life. “I _wanted_ you to find us. I didn’t even care about getting in trouble. But when you did show up, well, it wasn’t what I expected is all,” he finishes with a frown.

“I understand.” James’ assumption the night before had been correct. Harry _had_ been waiting for him to show up, and not just with the troll. They had been circling each other in the castle for months, both knowing the truth but neither speaking it out loud. The gap between what they knew and what they dare not say began to fester like an open wound. James was the adult, the parent. So, no matter how much he was hurting, it was his job to remedy what had been broken between them. “And I’m sorry. I haven’t quite figured out how to land yet, but I promise you, I’m trying. Could you tell me _how_ I let you down, exactly?”

“I don’t know. It’s stupid,” Harry sighs and tucks his chin into his chest. James notices that he’s got freckles on his cheeks, nearly the color of skin. James wants to argue with the assertion but thinks it’s best to let Harry get out his thoughts. “I don’t know you. I shouldn’t be expecting _anything_ from you.”

This, James could not let pass, “I want you to.” Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “I want you to get to know me and have expectations of me, and then tell me when I fudge it up completely.”

“Why?”

“Because I -” James takes a deep breath. “I’m your father, Harry. You’re so clever, I’m sure you’ve caught on, if you didn’t already know. I don’t know how much your dad has told you about me –

“Everything,” Harry blurts out. “He told me everything.”

“Really?” James asks, astonished.

“Really.” Harry’s lips curl up, just a bit. “Well, almost. He told me your name and things about your family and your friends – oh and of course my Uncle Sirius, he said you guys were close.” Harry seems to be unable to stop himself, smile growing with every bit of information he reveals. “He even showed me a picture of when you got one of those muggle perms,”

James groans, “That explains why you treat me like an idiot. Of all the photos he took with him…”

“I saw other ones too,” Harry laughs. “He never kept you a secret, from me, anyway. But, when I would ask why I couldn’t see you, he’d just close up. I stopped asking, eventually.”

“Well, I’m here now, you can ask me anything, and see me whenever you want,” James smiles. This is good. This is progress. “I promise you, Harry, things will be different from now on.”

Harry considers this for a moment, looks at him with bright eyes, shrugs and says, “Sounds good. Want to race?”

«»«»«»

“And he beat me!”

“So you’ve said. Three times.”

“I was actually trying and I lost!”

“_And _you’re well pleased about it.”

“Of course, I am. He’s a sodding prodigy. Do you think he could go pro?”

“Hmm, since you asked me five minutes ago? Let me think, Prongs. Nope, still haven’t the foggiest.”

James can hear the eye roll in Padfoot’s tone. They’re on a mirror call, but James can’t see his best mates’ face because the vain arse has got his mirror propped to the side as he braids his hair.

Sirius’ snarky attitude was completely warranted. James had been going on and on about his practice with Harry. The realization makes him a bit sheepish. “I’m rambling.”

“No.” Sirius finishes his braid and lifts the mirror to get a full view of James. “You’re just happy, and I’m happy that you’re happy. It’s a relief that the sprog isn’t avoiding you anymore, but could you _please_ tell me something about him other than how phenomonal he is at flying?”

“But he’s _so_ good at it,” James whines.

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“No, wait!” James cries, even though he knows Padfoot would never. “We had a good talk, too.”

“About Quidditch?”

“No, arsehole, about ... how we’ve been feeling,” James blushes when Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Oy, it’s an important part of this father-son thing.”

Sirius sucks in a breath. “Godric, that still sounds weird. _You_, as someone’s crochety, old dad? What a trip. Parenthood always seemed like it was something for other people and now...”

“Tell me about it,” James sighs, propping his legs up on the couch. “I wish I would’ve had more time with him before coming to Hogwarts, you know, just to get used to the idea without ...everything else. It’s frustrating, almost, like Reg-” James cuts himself off, remembering who was on the other side of the mirror.

Sirius’ eyes are sad, but he’s James’ other half, so finishes the thought for him, “Like Reg stole that time with Harry away from you?”

“I’m so sorry, Padfoot.”

Sirius breathes out a laugh, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

James thinks, _I didn’t listen when you said Regulus wasn’t well enough for a relationship. You lost your little brother for the second time. Harry grew up without the best uncle in the world. _He says, “I’m sorry for being mad at your brother.”

“You’re my brother too, Jamie.” Sirius’ eyes are glassy, but just like his nephew had done this morning, he does not cry. It occurs to James that he’s been trying to break down the walls around the Black boys’ hearts since he was eleven. If Harry proved to be like his father and uncle, then James would be at it for some time. “I think I should be cross with him. I want to be, for your sake, but I keep picturing him raising a baby by himself in some cold, lonely house.

“I think Kreacher helped,” James offers lamely.

“And there’s the other thing: Kreacher, our parents, our childhood. What could he possibly know about raising an emotionally stable kid? You should probably look into mind healers for the sprog and quickly, Prongs.” Sirius tries to laugh it off, but James is his other half, and knows the man really believes that he and his brother are irreparably broken.

He feels the urge to defend his boys, all three of them, “Regulus did a great job, actually. Other than Harry’s undying loyalty to Slytherin house, he’s a good kid, normal... and happy.” Padfoot still looks skeptical. James gets the most brilliant idea, though if Lily were here, she’d call it ‘ill-conceived’ and ‘manipulative’. “In fact,” James smiles, “You can see for yourself.”

“What are you on about?”

“Come to Harry’s first game! We could wear our old house jumpers, and you can meet him. Moony and Evans already know him. It’s not fair that you, of all people, have never spoken to him,” James presses, but Sirius still looks unconvinced. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to...”

Sirius narrows his eyes grey, and the expression is so similar to Harry’s that James laughs, out loud, “You play a dirty game, Mssr Prongs. I do want to meet him, especially now, but...” he trails off.

“Please,” James whines. “Lily is dying to see you.”

“So, you’re still in communication with the woman who betrayed me?”

James rolls his eyes. “Your husband also teaches here, if you remember.”

“The one who abandoned me?” Sirius laughs, rubbing his chin between his fingers, “I always wondered what happened to that bloke.”

“Sirius.”

“How was the full?”

James is frustrated by the change of subject. _Why wouldn’t Padfoot give him a direct answer? _“It felt nice having all this space to run around again, and Wolfsbane does wonders for Moony’s moods. You should come round next time.”

“Yeah, Remus said...” Sirius yawns. “I think I’m down for the night, Prongs. Same time on Monday?”

“Bed, already? It’s 9 oclock. That’s not very punk rock of you.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Yes, well, I’ve been extra tired lately.” _More like bored_, James thinks, frowning.

“Ooo! I have an idea!” James exclaims.

Sirius groans, “There was a time when I _liked_ to hear you say that.”

James ignores him, “How about you floo over right now? We could stroll about the castle, or have a bit of cuddle? When was the last time we cuddled?”

“I’m a married man, Potter.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” James winks.

“I would love to, but I really cant-”

“Of course you can.”

“I said no, James,” Sirius snaps, voice almost shaking.

James is beyond startled. Sirius never snapped at him. _He didn’t really resent us for buggering off to Hogwarts without him, did he? _No. Something else must be eating his best mate. From the look on Sirius’ face, James knows he’s about to apologize, so he beats him to it. “I’m sorry for pushing, Pads. If you’re tired, you’re tired. We’ll talk on Monday night and I’ll see you soon.”

Sirius just looks at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes with a sweet smile on his face, “At Harry’s game.”

“What?”

“You’ll see me at Harry’s game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's eating Sirius Black? Any guesses? Let me know in the comments !!!


	7. the perfect feint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow its been a while. very sorry. i have a lot of this fic completed, so be assured that more is coming even if i'm not posting. anyway, on to harry's first game...

**“**I can’t see him.”

“He is rather small.”

“Smallest of the lot, definitely.”

“Aww look, his quidditch robes go down to his ankles!”

“He’ll grow into them,” James huffs at his friends. He’s embarrassed on behalf of his son. Harry is currently moving into position on the quidditch pitch. Remus and Lily smirk at him, unapologetic.

“When will you?” Lily quips. Remus is sat between them and has to referee the ensuing poking match. Barred from prodding each other, the two begin to make faces over the werewolf’s head.

“I can’t believe Dumbledore thought _you lot_ would be good examples on the sprogs,” a familiar voice drawls behind them. James turns to see his best mate squeezing pass some Ravenclaws to take a seat next to him on the bleachers. Sirius smirks at the group, “I could have saved him the trouble.”

James pats his best mate’s back in excitement. He is beyond pleased that Padfoot had shown, but his smile drops when he turns back to his friends to find Remus gaping like a flobberworm.

“He didn’t tell you,” James gasps, mildly horrified, and whips his head back to Sirius. “You didn't tell him.”

“He didn’t ask." Sirius shrugs. "Do they still hand out cackling clusters at these things?”

James pinches Sirius’ arm and stands to let Remus pass by him. Sirius huffs as Remus takes the seat on his left, then proceeds to ignore whatever his husband whispers into his ear.

James shares an uncomfortable look with Lily, who is apparently the bravest witch _ever_, because she does not hesitate to interrupt the couple. “You look well, Black. A little different, but good.”

“Flattery will get you far with me, Evans, but it won’t make me forget how dreadfully boring St. Mungo’s is without you.”

“Nice, then I can be honest and say you look like you just crawled out of the poison ward’s waste bin.” There’s a small smile on her face. She had obviously missed him.

James realizes his best mate does look different though. He’s kind of pink and glowing. “She’s right, Padfoot. _St__op glaring at me! I meant about you looking well! _Except for this jumper. Went a bit overboard on the engorgement charm, eh, mate? You haven’t grown _that_ much since school.”

“It’s more comfortable,” he mumbles. James shrugs and turns back to the game. In the corner of his eye, he sees Padfoot pull Moony’s hand into his lap. At least he can watch the game knowing he hasn’t caused a major tiff in their marriage.

The match is off to a great start with Gryffindor scoring the first goal. James’ attention is mostly on Harry, who has opted to stay out of the way until he spots the snitch. It’s a good plan, and quite the relief for James, who isn’t keen on watching bludgers being hurled at his son. _Has Quiddtich always been this dangerous?_

Alicia Spinnet has just scored, putting Gryffindor twenty points in the lead, when a piece of parchment glides in front of his face and scrapes against his nose. James plucks the letter from the air before it can do anymore damage. He recognizes McGonagall’s handwriting, but the message is too dreadful to comprehend.

_Auror Potter, you’re needed in the Hospital Wing immediately. Neville Longbottom has been attacked! _

Lily gasps beside him, obviously having read over his shoulder. She is on her feet immediately. While Remus grabs James’ shoulder in equal parts concern and confusion, Sirius leans over to swipe the note from his fingers. James lets him. His best mate’s face pales almost as much as Lily’s upon reading the note.

Sirius pushes him up from his seat. “Go ahead, Prongs.”

Remus nods, “We’ll stay for Harry.”

James does not know what to say. He takes Lily’s hand and they make their way through the crowd.

The Hospital Wing is strikingly silent, except for the pitter-patter of a stray rat in the corner and Neville’s shallow breathing. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Pomfrey hover over Neville’s cot. Their lined faces are drawn tight.

Lily doesn’t hesitate to approach Neville’s side and grip the boy’s hand in her own.

“What happened?” she chokes out, face contorted with anger and concern as she looks over Neville’s wounded body. The boy has huge bruises that spiral from his forearms up to his neck, like someone had choked him with a rope.

“It was devil’s snare,” Pomfrey says solemnly. “He was blue in the face when we found him, but he’s healing well.”

“You give the children access to Devil’s Snare?” Lily hisses. James rubs her shoulder to calm her down.

McGonagall narrows her eyes. “You know very well, Ms. Evans, that we do not. The plant was not anywhere near the greenhouses when Professor Sprout made her rounds this morning. Whoever planted it must’ve known Longbottom would opt out of the Quidditch match to care for some mandrakes, as is his custom.”

“You think it was a trap?” James questions. Neville was an obvious target. They had long suspected the troll was released in the castle to harm him. Still, death by plant doesn’t seem like a Death Eater’s style.

“I’m afraid so. It was broad daylight and these plants usually grow in dark, damp areas. The vines must have been tampered with,” she explains. “We’ve taken statements from all staff not currently at the quidditch game this afternoon.”

“You can’t seriously believe it was a professor?” James asks in disbelief.

“The magic required to change the very nature of a living thing is far beyond that any of our students.” Dumbledore’s voice is grave. “And there’s no way someone could enter this castle without my knowing.”

James could think of twelve. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Who was unaccounted for?”

“Only one,” the Headmaster sighs. The old man obviously troubled by what he knew. He levels James with a heavy look over his spectacles and says, “Horace Slughorn.”

Lily swivels her head towards him. James is too shocked to respond. Slughorn was a vain prat, sure, but James wouldn’t have pegged him for the type to harm a student.

“Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, I need to speak with James and the Headmaster. Privately.” The two women hesitate at the request, but the grave set of Lily’s face must convince them to leave. When they’re gone, she demands, “I want to help James with the mission you’ve given him involving Slughorn and Lord Voldemort. I already have, to an extent. Now that Neville’s been hurt, I need to do something!”

Dumbledore does not look upset that James had revealed his mission to Lily, just exhausted.

"Ms. Evans, as I’ve told Mr. Potter, this information is extremely sensitive. Two people knowing this secret is far too many.”

“And I told you that Lily deserved the truth,” James cuts in. Lily squeezes his hand in thanks. “Slughorn trusts her more than either of us _and_ she’s smarter by a mile. More than, she loved Alice like a sister. She’s personally involved in this, whether we like it or not.”

“That is precisely what I’m afraid of,” Dumbledore sighs and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks impossibly older. “Tell me, did Frank and Alice ever share the details with either of you as to _why_ Lord Voldemort went after Neville?”

James and Lily share a look. He decides to respond, “The prophecy, of course. We didn’t get the full wording, but we got the gist: Neville would be the one to defeat Lord Voldemort. Was there more to it than that?”

“Yes, quite. Prophecies are peculiar pieces of magic. They’re very existence can change the entire course of history with often vague and misleading language. This one, in fact, did not even specify a name, just that a child would be born at the end of July, with parents who had defied Lord Voldemort. At the time, Neville was the only baby who fit the description. The dark lord chose him, marked him, you could say. Then he went after the child and his family with everything he had.” 

Lily physically shudders at the memory. James squeezes her hand.

He remembers that time so clearly, from saying goodbye to his good friends, to after, when Lily had explained the plan to him, Sirius and Remus with the Longbottom’s permission.

Frank and Alice were to hide in one Fidelus locked house, while Neville and his grandmother would take refuge in another. It was the perfect feint. Lord Voldemort would never expect the first-time parents to separate from their child at such a dangerous time. Even if he did, their secret keepers would protect them.

Lily was secret keeper for Neville and Augusta, while Frank had requested Peter Pettigrew. The couple hadn’t told Pettigrew that Neville would not be with them. Frank had meant to, but, luckily, never got the chance. A few months later, Pettigrew betrayed them. The perfect plan fell apart.

When Lord Voldemort found that the chosen one was not in his crib, he raged and let Bellatrix have her way with the parents. Pettigrew, fearing punishment from his lord, fled and was never heard from again.

The night it happened, James had tried to recall anything about Pettigrew that would let on to him being capable of betraying his best friend. Peter and Frank had been so close during Hogwarts, but James had been too wrapped up in Sirius and Remus to pay much attention to their two other dormmates. In fact, James had only grown close to Frank _after_ joining the Order.

“What are you saying, Dumbledore? Do you believe the prophecy was wrong?” Lily is obviously frustrated by the man’s roundabout way of speaking. James can wholeheartedly relate.

“I’m afraid that’s unknowable, even to me. Nevertheless, Voldemort made his choice that night, with very little evidence to suggest this fragile child would ever harm him. Think of the madness that comes from a choice like that, the ruthlessness. When I asked you to join The Order all those years ago, I knew the dangers would be great. I did not expect this war to carry over into another decade and eat up much of your adult life. You have a bright future Ms. Evans. I worry what would happen, if Lord Voldemort decides that _you_ are what’s standing in his path to victory.”

“What will happen to Neville if I don’t?” She turns away from the men to grasp Neville’s hand once again. She dabs a cloth across the boy’s forehead before continuing, “I know what Lord Voldemort is capable of, Headmaster. I appreciate the concern, but I’ve made my choice.”

“Very well,” Dumbeldore acquiesces. “Mr. Potter will inform you of the finer details of his mission regarding Slughorn. We must assume he was also involved with the troll attack earlier this year. Perhaps it would be safer to dismiss him from the castle, but the information he has is _essential _to Lord Voldemort’s demise.”

“I’ll get it,” Lily promises. James believes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very revealing in terms of where i'm going with the voldmort/horcrux/chosen-one plot. If you care, loll. I think most of you are like me and really living for the family drama between James, Harry and Regulus, so we're going to get back to that in the next chapter! How did you like this one?


	8. the absolute worst thing to say

It’s nearly dinner time when they leave the hospital wing. Neville had woken up before the pair left. He was weak but still had smiles to spare for his beloved Charm’s Apprentice.

James watched their exchange in silent distress. He had failed Neville today. They all had. With any luck, they would pull the truth from Slughorn quickly and be one step closer to ending this dreadful affair.

When Dumbledore left, James had explained to Lily everything he knew about Voldemort’s horcruxes and Slughorn’s altered memory. The conversation had left the two in a fear-choked silence ever since.

As they approach the Great Hall, they spot Remus and Sirius lingering by the door. James is pleased to see his best mate has stayed for the feast but confused as to why Remus is holding on to Sirius like he will collapse at any second.

“Prongs! Evans! Thank, Merlin. How’s Neville? We couldn’t weasel any details out of McGonagall.”

Lily closes in on herself a bit at the question, so James throws an arm around her shoulders in support. “He’ll be fine. We’ll tell you more tonight, after the feast.”

Remus and Sirius seem to catch on to their grim mood, so do not push.

Even from the corridor James can hear the Great Hall booming with the celebration feast. He is suddenly quite anxious. “Okay, you two, out with it. Who won the match? How did Harry fair?”

Remus and Sirius share a look. Remus coughs, “The match was...eventful.”

“Oh, get that dreary look off your face, Prongs. Your sprog took Gryffindor over the edge when he ‘caught’ the snitch.” Sirius laughs at this for some reason. James can’t be bothered to find out why because _Harry caught the snitch!_ And at his first game, too!

“He’s speechless,” Remus mutters in awe.

Lily’s lips turn up at that. “I’ve been trying for years to get you to shut up, and an eleven year old beats me to it. Figures.” She is standing taller now, face a bit brighter. James is glad she’s been cheered, even if it’s at his own expense.

“Oh, give him a break, Evans. Wait until he hears all the bits in between. I’m sure he’ll have a lot to say then.” Sirius barks a laugh. “We’ll fill you in at dinner. I’m starving.”

Remus tsks, eyeing his husband warily, “Are you sure that’s a good idea, love? Maybe we should head down to the kitchens and ask the house elves to prepare a special meal, with lots of vitamins and-”

“Remus. I’m a trained healer. I know much more than you about what my body needs right now.” Padfoot huffs, shaking off his husband’s protective hold. James and Lily must not hide their curiosity well because Sirius rolls his eyes at them and says, “I’m pregnant,” without preamble. He jabs a finger at Remus. “This one skipped over the excited phase and went straight to overbearing concern. It’s been a _lovely_ afternoon.”

“No way!” James cries. Lily squeals in delight.

“Hey! I _am_ excited.” Remus’ attempt to defend himself is muffled by Lily’s hair in his mouth, as the redhead attacks him with hugs and kisses.

James pulls Sirius close by the waist. He can feel Sirius’ abdomen, _his baby_, under the over-sized jumper. 

“Oh Padfoot,” he says, voice shaky. Sirius’ eyes are rimmed red. He pushes back a lock of the man’s thick, curly hair and lets his hand caress his best mate’s cheek. _They’re fuller than I remember_, James thinks, positively delighted, but then something occurs to him. “All that stuff you said the other night, about being a stable parent…you were talking about yourself.”

It’s not a question. Sirius nods anyway and runs a hand beneath his eyes. “Turns out internalized self-hatred and pregnancy hormones make for the worst cocktail ever.”

James presses their foreheads together. “You have to know, that even if Remus really had abandoned you, I would never.”

Sirius laughs, “I know, you great prat.”

“Hey!” Moony groans.

Evans shushes him. “They’re having a moment!”

“He’s _my_ husband!”

James laughs through his tears. _A little Padfoot and Moony. Oh dear._ “Congratulations on the sprog, Remus,” James says, while staring into Sirius’ bright grey eyes.

“Thank you.” Moony smiles, real big.

“I’m going to kiss your husband now, Remus.”

Lily giggles, Moony groans and James presses their lips together, both smiling all the while.

“Dad!?” a too familiar voice shouts. James breaks away from Sirius, mildly horrified. This would be difficult to explain, but also -

“He calls you ‘dad’ now?” Remus voices James’ thoughts.

“Never,” James breathes out, confused but excited by the prospect.

Sirius, obviously eager to see the boy he had heard so much about, turns immediately to the direction of the voice. His best mate’s breath hitches and Harry stumbles in his approach, smile dropping slightly as he looks upon Padfoot’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir” he directs at Sirius. _What?_ “I thought you were someone else.” Oh. _Oh_. James does not have time to dwell on Harry’s slip, because the boy turns his bright, smile towards him and says, “Can you believe I won?”

“I knew you would!” James grins. He kneels on the floor and Harry throws his arms around his neck in excitement.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you!”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Yes. We do.” Harry agrees with a smirk. James realizes then that he _loves _Harry. He loves his cheeky, little son. Harry steps back from the embrace and continues, “Of course, Malfoy won’t stop going on about how I didn’t _actually _win, but it was my mouth the Snitch went into, not Higgs! _And_ that was while those slytherins were hexing my broom. The pathetic sod probably bribed them to do it,” the boy mutters, folding his arm across his chest. 

“What?” James asks horrified, looking from Harry to Sirius and Remus.

“We told you it was eventful,” Sirius shrugs.

“And Harry was fine. Sirius performed a countercurse.” Remus reassures.

James is not reassured. He turns back to Harry, only to find all the joy wiped from the boy’s face.

“You didn’t know?” he asks slowly. James shakes his head, looking for the right words. “You weren’t there.”

James nods, hesitantly. He can see the storm brewing in his son’s eyes. Harry yanks his hands from the Auror’s grasp. The boy turns roughly on his heels and begins to stomp away from the group.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” James calls and follows after him. “Dumbledore needed my help. There was an emergency.” At this, Harry pauses in his retreat, and looks back towards the auror. His eyes search James' face, as if trying to catch him in a lie. James takes this as a good sign and continues, “I wanted to be there, more than any-”

“What was the emergency?”

“Oh, er, there was an attack in the greenhouses. The game had barely started then. I didn’t think I would miss the whole thing. I rushed to the hospital wing to check on Neville.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore _needed _you to sit at Neville’s bedside?”

James’ eyes narrow. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, “Harry, I know you’re upset, but you can _not_ speak to me like that. Neville is seriously wounded. I’m here to protect him.”

“Right.” Harry rolls his eyes and begins walking away again.

James calls after him, “You promised to talk to me when I mess up, remember? No more running off. That was the deal.”

This is the absolute worst thing to say because when Harry turns back to him, his eyes are blazing.

“And you promised me that things would be different! But this is just like Halloween! You chose him over me, again!”

“What do you mean by ‘again’?” James pleads, but Harry is drowning in his anger, and James is helpless but to watch.

“It doesn’t matter! None of this matters! I knew I should’ve been done with you after that night. I knew it! But I- I-I didn’t have anyone else.” Harry is heaving so quickly that James worries he might pass out. “Well, sod that! I don’t need anyone! I don’t need you! Go change Neville’s diapers for all I care. Just stay away from me!” 

When James tries to follow Harry, an arm holds him back. Suddenly he’s looking into Remus’ warm brown eyes as the man rubs fat tears from his cheeks.

“He needs time to cool down, love.”

“You both do,” Lily agrees, coming to rub circles along his back. It’s only then that he realizes he’s shaking.

James knows his friends mean well, but something in his gut tells him that Harry needs the opposite. “N-n-no. Did you hear what he said? I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

“I’ll go after him,” Sirius offers, staring thoughtfully in the direction Harry ran off. _Talk about a first impression_, James groans internally. He ruffles James’ hair and plants a kiss on his cheek before departing. “After all, I have the most experience with over-dramatic, public tantrums.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, the potters, they break my heart. expect some dogfather sirius fluff in the next chapter. until then, tell me how you liked this one!


	9. the Blacks have produced a lot worse

Yet again, Harry finds himself furious and alone on the owlery floor.

He should be celebrating in the Great Hall. He should be rolling his eyes behind Oliver’s back and making faces at the Slytherin table with Ron. Harry should feel light and happy and smug, because he made his team, his friends and his parents proud.

Only … his dads hadn’t come. They were too busy doing Merlin knows what, Merlin knows where, to show up for Harry’s big day.

“They’re perfect for each other,” Harry huffs to the empty tower.

A small voice urges him to show forgiveness and to be a bit more concerned with his friend in the Hospital Wing. Harry does not want to be forgiving or concerned. He wants to kick at the stone wall as if it were James Potter’s ridiculously large head. So, he does, over and over and over again until -

“Oy! Careful there. What will Gryffindor do if its champion gets injured?”

Harry turns to glower at whoever interrupted his assault. He’s startled to find that it’s the man from earlier…the one he had mistaken for his dad. Sirius Black is every bit as handsome as his photographs. Harry has always wanted to meet him, but now he glares up into his uncle’s smirking face.

“Oliver would hold tryouts to find a replacement Seeker until I recover,” Harry states blankly, and he crosses his arms to let his uncle know that he’s not in the mood for half-arsed excuses or a bonding session or whatever the heck else. Infuriatingly, Harry’s dry tone only amuses the man.

“Yes, but those games would be far less entertaining,” Sirius laughs lightly and then does a ridiculous reenactment of Harry catching the snitch in his mouth.

It’s funny, but Harry forces his lips to stay down. He can’t keep falling for charming men who pretend like they care about him but disappear when it matters most. Instead, he tries to pick a fight.

“Entertaining? I almost died!”

Sirius snorts, “Lucky for you, I had a few counter curses memorized from my own days of hexing brooms.”

“Well, erm -” Harry deflates. He hadn’t given much thought to how his broom had stopped spinning out of control. He assumed a professor had fixed it.

“The words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.” Sirius smirks and then turns away from him. Harry thinks, a bit panicked, that the man is going to leave. Instead, he moves to pet one of the low hanging owls. It gives a soft purr.

“Thank you,” Harry grumbles reluctantly at his back.

“No problem.” The man shrugs. “It was more for my benefit than your own to be honest. Can you imagine coming all this way to meet someone only for him to bite the dust before dinner? What a waste of trip,” he tsks. “And I wore my nice boots, too.”

“Oh, come off it,” Harry sighs.

“Come off what?” Sirius turns and frowns at his feet. “These are vintage.”

“I meant” - Harry rolls his eyes - “that you didn’t come to Hogwarts for me.”

“Oh really?” Sirius puts his hands on his hips. “Pray tell, why am I here?”

“I don’t know,” Harry challenges. “Maybe to snog some pathetic, lying Auror?”

Sirius frowns, “That’s your father you’re talking about.”

“Tell him that!”

Sirius’ eyes widen at the bite in his Harry’s voice, but he musters a watery smile.

“I can try, but only so much can penetrate that crow’s nest on his head. You must understand what that’s like.”

“Just leave me alone,” Harry sighs, wearily. His head is pounding, and his heart is in pieces. He sinks to the floor and tucks his knees to his chest. It’s been such a long day.

With his head tucked between his knees, Harry can’t see Sirius approach him, but he does feel when the man’s weight settles next to his own. Warmth radiates from his body.

“You’re right,” Sirius begins. Any other day, Harry would have cheered at hearing his two favorite words. “James begged me to come to Hogwarts, and I definitely fought him on it. You have no reason to believe that I’m here _for you_, or that I care about you in the slightest,” he hums. _Is this guy for real?_ “Except, of course, that I am here. With you. Getting owl droppings on my very nice boots,” he laughs lightly, and then, softer, finishes, “instead of snogging some airheaded Auror …who’s absolutely wrecked after disappointing you.”

Harry keeps his body turned away as he processes the words. James Potter had asked his uncle to come the match? Why? He didn’t even care enough to stay for the whole thing.

_It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter_, Harry thinks forcefully and hopes the mantra sticks this time. After all, the boy had resolved to be done with the Auror after the troll attack, but that night, nothing had gone to plan.

After storming from the bathroom, Harry had written a desperate letter to Regulus. The letter expressed all the anger and heartbreak and joy he had experienced since coming to Hogwarts, from being sorted into Gryffindor to joining the quidditch team and meeting his other father.

Harry had included two simple requests. First, that Regulus attend his first match and second, that they never speak to or about James Potter ever again. Harry hadn’t expected his dad to agree with all of it, but he had expected a response.

However, the next day, Hedwig had returned to the castle with no reply. Harry had been furious and worried and desperately needed to talk to someone.

He considered confiding in Ron and Hermione. The three had been very close after Halloween. But Harry didn’t think they could help, as they both had incredibly doting and responsible parents. Neville might’ve understood, but Harry had been too jealous of the chosen one to even consider seeking out his comfort.

More days passed. Regulus’ silence continued. Harry’s resolve crumbled in his hands like a sugar quill. Loneliness had steered him to James Potter’s chambers that morning. And for a while, it seemed like Harry had taken the right turn.

After Harry fumbled his way through some lie about his determination to win, he and James had spent a great morning on the pitch. The air had been cleared. James had promised to prioritize Harry over Neville from now on … or so the boy thought.

Harry had left the pitch that day in good spirits and reassured of his place in the man’s heart. Then James Potter opted to play Neville’s wet nurse over witnessing a milestone in his estranged son’s life.

_Wrecked? Yeah, right._

A choked groan from his intruder pulls Harry from his internal tirade. The boy whips his head around, too concerned to remember that he’s meant to be ignoring the man.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Sirius takes a few deep breaths before smiling up at Harry. “Please, continue brooding. It will give me something to lord over you later in life.” He rests a hand on his abdomen and grumbles good-naturedly, “The sprog likes to give me trouble from time to time, but I suppose I deserve it for everything I used to get up to.”

“What?” Harry asks with wide eyes. “Do you mean you’re pregnant?”

“Yup, about three months in.”

“Woah,” Harry breathes. A thought occurs to him. “Is it Professor Lupin’s?”

Sirius barks a laugh. “I sure hope so.”

“Will they be,” Harry pauses, searching for a polite word. “…_different_?”

Sirius’ head snaps towards him. A deep crease forms between the man’s brows.

Harry regrets blurting out the questions. He is, after all, supposed to be ignoring the man. However, Harry is a curious eleven-year-old, and Sirius, the only family he’s ever met aside from his parents and annoying second cousin, was going to have a baby!

Thankfully, Sirius Black does not look annoyed, only thoughtful when he asks, “You know a lot about me from Regulus, eh?” Harry nods hesitantly and Sirius shows his teeth. “Well that hardly seems fair, when we haven’t been properly introduced.”

Oddly, the man sticks his hand out to be shaked. The Blacks truly were a strange lot. Harry takes it with a small grin.

“Harry Potter, sir.”

“Sirius Black, and one day” – he takes Harry’s hand into his own and places it on his swollen abdomen – “this will be your cousin. I’ll be honest with you. They might come out with a few, er, furry bits, but the Blacks have produced a lot worse. My mother, for one.”

This time, Harry lets himself laugh, and places another hand on the man’s belly. It occurs to Harry that he needs to work harder on sticking to his resolutions. But Sirius promised that he’s here _for him, _and Harry wants desperately for it to be true. He needs someone he can to talk to, someone he can trust.

After a quiet moment, the boy looks curiously between his uncle’s face and abdomen and asks, “Is stress bad for the baby?”

“You’ve been spending far too much time with your Professor Lupin,” Sirius rolls his eyes, fondly. “I’m sure I can manage a little tension.”

“Good,” Harry gulps. “Because I think something terrible has happened to my dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...okay its been a minute. and this chapter ends in a bit of a cliffhanger. i know. i'm the worst but i'll try to get the next one up soon! thanks for coming back and leave a comment!!!


	10. anger, frustration and general unpleasantness

_Today has been one drawn-out ordeal after the other, but here, in his boyfriend’s arms, James wishes for the night to last a little longer. _

_Regulus runs gentle fingers through James’ hair. The motion does wonders for the tension that has built up after ten straight hours of Auror training. James presses kisses along the man’s neck in thanks. He starts with innocent pecks but can’t help making them deeper as he moves lower. _

_“Potter,” Regulus admonishes. _

_James grins against his collarbone. “Nice name that is,” - another kiss -“Play your cards right and it could be yours someday.”_

_Regulus pulls James’ chin up. His eyes are unimpressed, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” _

_“What’s stopping me?” He rolls his hips, unabashed._

_“Sirius gets off of his shift in five minutes.” _

_James groans obnoxiously loud and drops his head against Regulus’ chest in defeat. His boyfriend offers him little consolation but to laugh at his dramatics. James wonders if he should be offended that Reg isn’t disappointed by their impending interruption. _

_“What’s this?” Reg gasps in mock horror. “You’re not excited to see your very best friend in the whole wide world?” _

_“Not when he’ll shove me through the floo after five minutes,” James pushes his glasses up with a huff. “I swear, there was a time when the git liked having me about.” _

_“That was when you were coming to entertain him, love,” Regulus placates. “Now you’re here to corrupt his broken, baby brother.” _

_James frowns. “He doesn’t think you’re broken.” _

_“Oh, really?” _

_“Yes, he just doesn’t…” James struggles for words that encompass Sirius’ frustration with everything he does not understand and cannot control._

_“Trust me,” Regulus finishes. He puts a finger against James’ lips to stop his protest. “No, it’s okay. Perhaps he shouldn’t.” _

_“Why the hell not?” James huffs. “You made a mistake. We all have in this blasted war. But you left that life behind. You told us everything you know about Lord Voldemort’s plans,” Regulus’ eyes shift downward. It’s James turn to pull man’s chin towards him. “The Prewett’s would be dead without your intel. The Order knows that. Sirius knows that.” _

_Regulus sighs and gets a far-away look in his grey eyes. It’s become a common expression for the man. James hates it more than anything. _

_“I know that my brother loves me, James Potter. But he hasn’t-” It’s Regulus’ turn to struggle for the right word. “…forgiven me… for becoming a Death Eater. Nor himself for leaving me behind.” _

_James looks away and into the fireplace. He remembers the night Sirius had shown up on his doorstep with horrifying clarity. Despite being several months into their relationship now, James and Regulus have yet to speak of that summer. Maybe they should._

_“Have you tried talking to him about it?” _

_Regulus looks at him like he’s daft. “Blacks don’t talk about their feelings. Sirius will hover and criticize, and I’ll give him the silent treatment and close in on myself until one of us breaks.” He shrugs as if this statement could ever be considered nonchalant. “It will be even more unbearable these next few weeks, you know, with Lupin off on another mission.” _

_James had not known actually, but he should have suspected. Remus’ assignments for Dumbledore were getting longer and more frequent. In fact, James hadn’t seen his friend since the last full moon. He wishes he could go with Moony and watch his back like they had done in school. But James wasn’t even supposed to know about Remus’ work with the local wolf packs. _

_ For months, Sirius had driven himself mad thinking Remus was the spy in The Order’s ranks. It was the most ridiculous theory James had ever heard, but Sirius, jaded by the dark world he grew up in, could not write off the possibility of a betrayal … even from his fiancé. In fact, it wasn’t until James tied the couple down and forced the truth from the werewolf’s lips, that Sirius put back on his engagement ring. _

_And now what, Sirius has convinced himself that Regulus will be the one to betray him? Or go back to the Death Eaters? The younger Black rarely left their flat. When would he have time to conspire with the Dark Lord? Sirius must know by now that Regulus would never leave them. _

_The war was changing them for the worst. Sirius was angry and suspicious. Remus was far away and in danger. And Reg, the love that came back to him, was quiet and distant. James feels as if he’s watching through a windowpane, as everyone he loves struggles to exit a burning building. _

_His hazel eyes flit across the room, searching desperately for a solution. Only one idea comes to mind. It’s not much, but it had worked the first time. _

_“Move in with me,” James blurts out._

_“What?” Regulus’ brows raise into his hairline. James knows he’s about to put up a fight. “No. You don’t have to -”_

_“I want to,” James insists, pulling the man’s hands into his own. “This thing we have, I want it to continue and I want you to be happy while it’s continuing.”_

_Reg gnaws at his lower lip, considering, “And leave Sirius on his own?” _

_“Oh no, that’s too a terrifying thought.” James waves his hand as if to banish the notion. “He’s coming with us, of course.” _

_Regulus tilts his head and says, “And here I thought you were trying to get me away from him.” _

_“You’ll both have plenty of space,” James assures with a small smirk._

_“Your flat isn’t that much bigger than ours, Potter.” _

_“We’re not going to my flat. We’ll move into my parents’ manor, get out of the city, away from -_

_“James-” Regulus' voice is weary for good reason._

_“No, it’s alright, better than.” James fights to keep the smile on his face. “The house shouldn’t just sit there collecting dust. It’s where I grew up, after all. Sirius and I, both,” James swallows. He hadn’t returned to his childhood home since his parents’ funeral. It would be hard, but for his friends, he could do anything. “You’ll have loads of books to read, and Moony will have acres of land to roam during the full. Padfoot will be happier there. He misses it, I think. This will be good for us. It’s somewhere permanent and safe that Sirius can’t kick me out of,” James finishes with a light laugh._

_Regulus frowns, lifting his palms to cup James' cheeks, “Are you sure?” _

_“More so than ever.”_

_Regulus searches his eyes for a moment, and eventually, nods his assent. There’s hesitation in his boyfriend’s eyes, but also a spark of something else… something good and warm and hopeful. James will take whatever he can get._

_He tackles the man for a kiss but pulls back when a yawn climbs up his throat. Regulus merely laughs at him before guiding James’ head to rest in the crook of his neck. _

_ In less than half an hour, James will wake up to find Sirius glaring down at him. The three will have an awkward dinner trying not to talk about Remus’ absence or this bloody war. It will be near impossible, but that’s half an hour away. Right now, James can doze off, happy and hopeful, tracing the pattern of Regulus’ dark curls against his jumper. _

James wakes up with dark curls lodged into his mouth and Remus Lupin glaring down at him. He spits out the hair and sits up in bed slowly, as not to jostle Sirius or his swollen belly.

“This isn’t funny anymore,” Remus hisses, eyes darting between Sirius and James’ tangled limbs.

James plays dumb, “We were only sleeping.”

“I don’t give a shit what you were up to, Potter. I’ve told you dozens of times that he has to sleep with a back pillow!” Remus grumbles and pistons said pillow under Padfoot, who gives a sleepy groan in protest. “Did you even pour Soothing Drought on his feet?” Remus tsks.

James rolls his eyes and rises from the bed. His head hurt something horrid and he could feel bruises forming along his side. When had Padfoot become such a fitful sleeper? Honestly, where was Remus’ concern for _his_ back?

James grunts, “He didn’t want them, Moony. Unlike you, I don’t have the patience to argue with a four months pregnant wizard.”

Remus’ response is drowned out by banging at James’ front door. The knocking makes the Auror’s ears ring, and his knee burns with every step he takes towards the sound.

As James passes through the lounge of his chambers, he nearly trips on a mound of blankets and pillows tossed carelessly off his couch and spilling on to the floor. Remus must have slept on the couch last night to be near Padfoot in case something happened. James rolls his eyes. It would be just his luck to end up with two bum knees, so he sighs and begins piling them in his arms.

Upon hearing of Sirius’ pregnancy and Remus’ subsequent nerves, Dumbledore had invited Sirius to stay in the castle. The Headmaster hoped the beloved DADA Professor would rest easier with his husband close by, and so be able to focus on his lessons. Sleeping on a thirty-year-old couch was probably not what the Headmaster had in mind.

James shouts as much to his friend over his shoulder, but in reply, Remus only grumbles, “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

Then James hears a muffled yelp from Sirius. The clammy liquid of the Soothing Draught must have woken him up. The Auror is grateful to have already escaped the couple. It never ends well when Moony wakes Padfoot.

James can’t tell what gets louder then, the banging on the door or in his head. He has only been awake for ten minutes and already knows it will be a shit day.

Lily stands on the other side. For a split second, she looks shocked that he had even answered, before she storms past him and into the lounge without so much as a hello.

Apparently, James’ holiday cheer is spreading.

“Since when do you knock?” James yawns and mentally punches himself for not having coffee on hand.

“Since your locking charms can keep out a rabid Veela invasion,” Lily gripes.

James’ scrunches his eyes together for a moment before realization dawns on him. “Insufferable, overbearing werewolf,” he mutters.

“Once more, for the husbands in the back,” Sirius agrees, trudging out of the bedroom in nothing but his pants and a cropped sweatshirt. Remus is hot on his heels, looking equally rumpled.

Lily raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “The amount of times I find you three _like this_ is concerning.”

James pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why aren’t you at breakfast, Evans?”

“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you, Potter, but I’m having a bit of trouble sharing scones with the man who tried to_ murder my student_!” She crosses her arms, green eyes blazing. “I swear, I can’t wait to get the memory, so we can throw that slug in Azkaban. Thank Merlin the semester is almost over.”

“I second that,” Remus sighs wearily. He falls back into the couch, next to his husband.

“Professors of the year over here.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He shifts away from Remus, who looks hurt by the small rejection. “I have to disagree. I didn’t like the castle over the breaks. It’ll be so quiet and lonely without the kids.”

James grinds his teeth_. He means without Harry. _These past few weeks of watching Sirius bond with Harry, while the boy barely looked his way, tore the Auror up inside.

“So, you’ll be lonely even with me here?” Remus deadpans. “Great. I love a reminder that I’ll never be enough for you.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sirius sighs, long suffering.

James could not tell you why he feels the need to but in, “It sure sounds like that’s what you meant to me.”

Sirius’ eyes narrow on him, “Stay out of this, Prongs.”

“Potter?” There’s something off about Lily’s voice. James ignores her.

“Great. You can interfere with my relationships, but I can’t with yours. Seems fair.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus puts a hand on Sirius knee, “Let’s calm down.”

“No, Remus, let him talk. Let _me_ talk!” Sirius shoves the hand off. He growls, “Now, tell me what you meant, Prongs.”

“_Potter._”

“I _meant_,” James scoffs, “that you tried to keep Regulus away from me and now you’re doing the same thing with Harry!”

“Potter!” Lily shouts.

“What!” James tears his eyes away from his Sirius’ crumpled expression and Remus’ furious one.

Lily is kneeling in front of his bookshelf. No wonder her voice sounded odd. _When had she moved?_ The redhead twists her torso to face them and holds out a handful of dark maroon leaves.

“Where did these come from?” She gestures to a small pile of them gathered on the lowest shelf.

James draws his brows together. “A plant, most likely,” he huffs. He tries very hard to ignore Padfoot swiping at tears in his peripheral vision. “Why?”

“Because they’re the reason you’re all acting like giant prats this morning,” she hisses.

James watches in utter confusion as the witch casts a silent charm over the leaves and throws them into the fireplace. They burn quickly, but the smell doesn’t permeate the room, most likely Evan’s doing.

When the last leaf shrivels up, so does the tension in James’ body. Sirius’ hitched breathing evens out and Remus settles back into the couch. Even Lily has a bit more color to her cheeks when she comes to sit next to him.

James feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, no…like he had been released from a spell.

“What were those?” he croaks.

“They’re from a plant called _Rubrum Intrito_. Literally, Red Anger. They’re known to incite violence between people by creating feelings of anger, frustration and general unpleasantness.” She gives him a small, sad smile. “Essentially, they’re the opposite of _Sage_ leaves.”

“They were changing my mood?” he asks, horrified.

“You have been acting weird these past days,” Sirius mumbles. His eyes are still red. “It’s why I came round last night. Thought a cuddle might cheer you up,” he sniffs and send James a watery smile, which makes him feel even more like an asshole.

_Merlin, had I really accused Sirius of sabotaging my relationships?_

“They changed all of our moods,” Lily corrects, kindly. “I also visited this morning to check in on you. You were so down at dinner. But when I walked in, it was as if I forgot all that. The only thing on my mind was how annoying you lot were. And I here I thought I got over that in seventh year.”

“It works that quickly?” Sirius gasps and grips at his belly, protectively.

Remus sits up in his chair, face etched with concern. “How did they get in your quarters, Prongs?”

“I have no idea,” James gulps. Not only had he been a giant prat to the people who loved him most, but he also exposed their unborn child to a dangerous substance. _Shit, fucking morning. _“Maybe a house elf left them by accident, or some rodent brought them in.”

Lily scrunches her eyebrows, “And propped them up onto the shelf? No, someone left those here on purpose.”

“Perhaps a prank by one of the students,” Remus suggests.

“Quality has really gone down,” Sirius mutters. “We’ll have to search the quarters for more.”

“I’ll check the bedroom,” Lily nods, already rising from her seat.

“Stop, please,” James chokes, fingers pressed into his eyes. “Stop being good to me.”

Three heads turn to look at him in bemusement.

“What are you on about?”

“Especially you, Padfoot. I was so out of line. What I said about Reg, you have to know-”

“No way! No apologies. You heard Evans. The leaves made you all screwed up inside.”

“A plant did not force me to say those things. So, yes, there will be apologies. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even be thinking those things. I love that you get this time with Harry and _I know_ you would never-” James voice breaks.

It’s Remus who responds, “We understand James. We know you’re under a lot of pressure with the horcruxes. And now, with Regulus likely missing, well, none of us have been ourselves, really.”

James shudders at the reminder. After dinner on the night of the Quidditch match, he and Lily had relayed their mission to Sirius and Remus without Dumbledore’s permission. They had lived through one war with secrets and had no intention of doing it again.

Sirius, in turn, had shared with them Harry’s concerns about his dad. In truth, the boy hadn’t told him much. Harry believed Regulus’ research had gotten him into trouble, but claimed he had no idea what this research entailed. The new uncle had been hesitant to breach the boy’s trust, but Sirius knew they would have better luck finding Regulus together.

Remus continues, “Merlin, I’ve been so worried that our baby will be _like me_, and that somehow it’s hurting Sirius, that I’ve turned into a micro-managing monster myself.”

“Love, do you know me at all?” Sirius grumbles, but curls himself around the man and holds his gaze. “When have I ever suffered in silence? You have to trust that if I’m hurting, I will let you know.”

“I do trust you, but this is such an anomaly. How could you know if something’s wrong when we have no idea what a ‘right’ half-breed pregnancy looks like?”

Sirius ducks his head. It’s Lily who responds.

“He can’t know. Nothing is certain. Not anymore,” she sighs, deep and long. “All of our lives have changed dramatically in the last few weeks and they’re going to continue to do so. But we’re still here, together.” She grips James hand in her own and sends a warm smile to the married couple. Her eyes are wet. “We have to try a bit harder now, to make sure no pain or resentment or secrets can build up between us. We’ll just have to check in with each other more when things change …when we change.”

James tucks her under his arm. He wishes he could hold his friends in this moment forever.Sirius breaks their silence.

“Speaking of changes Evans, when did you become a herbology expert. 'Rubrum Intrito?' Be honest, you made that up.”

“I’m offended, Black. You should know by now, that I’m an expert at everything,” Lily laughs with a toss of her hair over her shoulder. “Neville told me about them, actually. Legend goes that after King Arthur's death, Morgana cursed the leaves to start a feud between Camelot and Merlin’s wizarding village.”

“Oh yes! My nan told me that story,” Remus offers with a wispy smile.

“He said, Neville, I mean,” Lily has that smile on her face that’s specially reserved for the young boy. “He said that he wanted to get rid of all the red leaves in Wizarding Britain, so that the war could finally end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, my sweet Neville! Also, our first real Jegulus scene! mark the day, friends. lol, okay leave a comment, and thanks for sticking with me!


End file.
